


For the Good of Cybertron

by Quiet_Shadow



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: AU, Fingerfucking, Future Mpreg, M/M, Non Consensual, Oral Sex, Other, Post-Series, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slash, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The good of Cybertron necessitates sacrifices. Some of them, Optimus wasn't ready to make. He had no desire to serve his Magnus in such a way, no desire to share his berth and carry an heir for him, like some of his fellow Primes. Too bad his opinion doesn't count for much, or at all...</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Good of Cybertron

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an old bunny of mine I had posted on the Anon Transformers Kink Meme: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/3587.html?thread=4147971#t4147971
> 
> However, unlike in the original prompt, where Optimus was mostly willing but a bit apprehensive, here it's a 'what if': what if Optimus had refused straight away and tried to bolt?

Optimus shook as his panel was manually opened. Silently, he begged the mechs holding him to release him, and the one revealing his most private parts to stop what he was doing. The tip of a finger slipped inside as if testing the moistness, but it was nonexistent at this point. The Prime tried to get away, but he was held too firmly. He tried vainly to liberate wrists, bound together behind his back by a pair of discharged stasis cuffs, but there was no leeway. The finger slipped deeper inside him and started to move slowly, rotating, caressing and teasing the dry walls. Two more were added swiftly, and Optimus gasped silently. A hand grabbed him by the chin and he found himself forced to look into a familiar but unwelcome face.

Sentinel looked at him rather coolly. “Hold still,” he groused, seemingly uncaring for the distress he was causing to his former friend. His touch however, firm but not cruel, belied his heated words and cool demeanor. His fingers moved slowly, gently, caressing the inner walls and delicately stretching the narrow passage a little at time. “It’s been a while since we did it last, hasn’t it?” he asked lowly, so lowly Optimus had a hard time picking up the words. “By the Allspark, you’re still so tight… And I still know where to press,” he added with a rather bitter smile.

His fingers shifted a bit, getting deeper and lightly stroking a cluster of sensor nodes he knew were there. Optimus could feel himself starting to lubricate under the gentle ministration, and his optics widened in shock and fear. A silent moan escaped him.

“No,” he mouthed silently, silently begging his former friend to stop.

But Sentinel wouldn’t, and he already knew that.

The blue Prime was looking at him stonily, even as he tried to pleasure him. “Why did you attempt to run, Optimus? It was stupid. Where do you think you could have gone? All you have won,” he said calmly, “is being bought back in chains, and trust me; nobody is going to let you try to leave Cybertron again.” His fingers moved a bit more violently inside the other Prime, to show his disappointment at the thought.

Optimus wanted to whimper, but no sound escaped his mouth. The scrambler placed on his throat made sure to shut off his vocalizer. Try as he might, he would only be able to utter static. Desperately, he tried to shake his head free, not wanting to be forced to look at the one who was… violating him. But Sentinel was holding his chin firmly, not allowing him the possibility. He squirmed a bit in the two Elite Guard mech’s hold, but they didn’t bulge either. Stonily, they were looking right in front of them, neither looking at their captive nor their superior officer.

Optimus felt like laughing hysterically.

Here he was, prisoner of his own faction, while Sentinel was fingering him for another, and Optimus couldn’t do anything to escape the act. Optics shuttering, as if not seeing would somehow stop everything, Optimus felt a drop of cleaning fluid leak from his optical cleansers.

Still, he could hear Sentinel talking, even as the incessant fingering of his valve continued.

“Just lying in a berth with him, letting him try to get you sparked. It wasn’t so much to be asked, don’t you think?” Optimus shuddered in revulsion. Perhaps it wasn’t so much of a big deal for Sentinel, but it was his body. He didn’t want to… Didn’t want to be forced into ‘facing and merging with someone not of his own choosing. Didn’t want to be used as a hypothetical brood mare – and nobody could be sure anyway he would be able to conceive what they wanted, exposition to the Allspark or not.

Sentinel wasn’t finished. “It wouldn’t have been so hard, you know. He’s a good mech. Accommodating. He wouldn’t have hurt you, quite the contrary. He sure never hurt me. Or Rodimus. Or Longarm,” he added darkly.

Optius was writhing now. The fingers inside felt too familiar, and though unwelcomed by his mind, they were readily sucked in by his body.

“It would have been a good life, you wouldn’t have wanted for anything. And I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded letting you go back to that mud ball you seem to be so fond of once it failed or you safely delivered an heir. Now… now they’ll never let you do that again, Optimus.”

The fingers moved again at their gentle pace, but deeper inside.

“You proved to be too much of a wild card with your attempt at fleeing rather than accepting it like everybody did.”

Optimus’ valve rippled around the invasion.

“I’m doing you a favor here, Optimus. Most of the Council wanted to fry your processor or get you in stasis so you wouldn’t try to run away again. We need your body, but nobody said somebody had to be home, you know?” he asked with a grim smile as Optimus’ optics lighted suddenly, full of fright.

Sentinel’s thumb caressed his cheek in reassurance. “Thankfully for you, I managed to convince them that I could… help you unwind a little. Make you more… amendable to their ideas and pleas. And that you would be more obedient from now on. And you’re gonna be obedient, aren’t you?” he almost purred. “Aren’t you?” he asked again, more forcefully.

More cleanser drops left his optics as he nodded imperceptibly.

“Good boy,” Sentinel answered with a thin smile as he reached for a sensor node deep inside. The results on Optimus were instantaneous.

Optimus didn’t overload. It wasn’t what Sentinel had tried to do. No. He had just teased him enough to make him weaker and unable to walk right away. His legs wouldn’t support him anymore, and he sagged forward helplessly as finally Sentinel withdrew his lubricant coated fingers.

Sentinel stared at them. Any other time, the blue Prime would have licked them clean. He still remembered a time he did so, in the comfort of their shared room at the Academy. But he wouldn’t do so in front of an audience. He glanced briefly at the two Guards holding his fellow Prime. They were still staring straight ahead, and Sentinel scowled.

“Give him to me,” he ordered them, raising his arms to take hold of his former friend. “Your services are no longer needed this cycle.”

“We are under orders to not leave the…” one started.

“YOU are under order to guard the doors and not let HIM go. Not to stand in the room while he’s ‘faced,” Sentinel as he took Optimus, bridal style, to carry him to the next room. “We’ll call for you once we’re finished, thank you.”

The guards nodded, saluted and left. Sentinel thought he heard the sound of a lock unclenching, but couldn’t be sure. He knew the two would stay put, and that a few patrols would pass the hallway during the next cycle, just in case.

So many precautions…

Sighing, he turned his optics toward Optimus’ face. Dazed, the red and blue mech was trying not to look at him. His mouth was opening and closing, but no sound came out. His gaze softened a bit, and he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time for his former friend: pity.

“Sorry, but I can’t remove the scrambler just yet. I don’t have the codes to shut it down as of now, but I promise I will soon enough. I wouldn’t mind hearing your voice. Even if you just want to scream at him,” he chuckled without humor.

Optimus shuttered his optics again and tensed in his arms. Sentinel sighed once more.

“For what it’s worth, Optimus, I’m sorry things came down to that.”

And he really was.

Optimus and he might not be exactly friends anymore, but he certainly hadn’t wanted things to degenerate this way. Let Optimus rust on this mud ball he liked so much, fine by him. Having him here against his will, miserable and unable to even leave his quarters without an escort, not being allowed his pathetic friends to cheer him up, and having him coerced into giving the Autobots’ empire a living heir as soon as possible, well…

Sentinel wasn’t exactly a nice mech. He was ready to admit it; you didn’t get to rule (or help to rule) a planet and colonies by being nice. He, most than others, could understand the necessity to make sacrifices. But he wasn’t exactly a cruel mech either.

And what was happening was past cruelty.

However, he was an Autobot. He was the Magnus’ second. He wouldn’t question the orders, even if he judged them immoral and sympathized with the victim’s plight.

“Rodimus is sorry too,” he added. Another truth. The other Prime had been one of the few advocating for Optimus to be able to make his own decisions. Let him refuse for now, try and seduce him, gently make him realize it was necessary, he had argued. Let it come to them in his terms, in his time. Give him the time to ready himself. It would be better for everyone involved.

Sadly, he didn’t have enough weight to make himself heard. Things were rushed; Optimus (understandingly) refused and tried to bolt for parts unknowns, and… Well, the rest was history.

“And…” he started as the door of the berthroom automatically opened before him. From this position, he had a good look onto the large berth just facing the entry. Despite a rather feeble lighting system, he spotted the red and yellow form on all four onto the berth, giving fellatio to a big blue mech still hooked to a number of machinery.

“… Ultra Magnus is sorry too,” he finished softly.

Yes, sorry. Sorry he had to force the issue. Sorry he would basically be raping one of his subordinates, despite all the gentleness he could and would show him. Sorry the Council deemed it necessary to not allow the Prime much of a choice in the decision, and enforced more restrictions on him that the Magnus had wanted.

But he wouldn’t let Optimus go.

Not when he had such a close call. Not when Optimus was one of the few ‘bots with a compatible spark and nanites he could use to create a new spark without the Allspark. Not when said Allspark didn’t exactly exist anymore. Not when Perceptor’s readings insisted the red and blue disgraced Prime’s energy flux would allow him easier conception.

The Magnus position used to be an elected office. Now, with the system being changed, it would become an inherited office. Magnus needed an heir, as soon as possible. Scratch that, he needed several heirs to raise and choose from. It was the only way they could start a dynasty, like the ones which had ruled Cybertron in a distant past.

But the other parent needed to be worthy, with good codes to transmit to the future offspring. Sentinel, Rodimus, Longarm,… they were some of the best mechs Cybertron had to offer. Officers who were loyal to the Autobots’ cause. Loyal to the Magnus. It was natural they shared his berth and offered him their bodies for his use.

Sentinel minded, and didn’t mind altogether. He had climbed as high as he could in the hierarchy, and even if he wouldn’t ever reach the position of Magnus himself, it was tempting to think his creation could someday. Besides, sex partners without a secret agenda or wanting favors from him were hard to find, and Ultra Magnus WAS considerate and indulged him. So, perhaps he had been a bit rushed into the relationship, but in the end, it worked well enough for him. Same thing with Rodimus. Except Rodimus had a big crush on their leader to sweeten the deal.

Of course, there had been Longarm, but he was special case. The filthy traitor… Sentinel half suspected he would have used any offspring of Ultra Magnus to give more weight to Decepticons’ claims on the planet. Getting him sparked would have most likely served some nefarious plans of Megatron.

Optimus, well… He had nothing to expect, no secrets plans, nothing to hold to.

Just the naked truth that his happiness didn’t matter in the great scheme of things, and that he couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to escape the fate planned for him.

Sentinel felt Optimus stiffening in his arms, and Sentinel glanced at him, perplexed, than realizing. He had lighted his optics again and seen the Magnus, spike erected under Rodimus’ talented mouth.

He could only guess what was going on in Optimus’ processor, and he doubted any of it was good.

Ultra Magnus, lying against several cushions to help him sit, was petting Rodimus’ helm, gently encouraging him to take him deeper in his mouth, and Rodimus was doing his best to please him. Various monitors beeped quietly around the berth, showing the Magnus’ health was stable, and increasing with time.

From the corner of his optics, the ruler of Cybertron noticed his second entering with their newest lover and nodded at him, sparing Optimus a guarded and sad look, but he said nothing. However, he motioned for Sentinel to come closer. Optimus noticed, and he shook and started leaking fluid from his optics again. He gave Sentinel a desperate look.

Sentinel sighed and took a few steps in, ready to carry his charge and put him onto the berth. “It’ll be okay. I promise,” he stated quietly. “We’ll take good care of you…”

Except, he had the feeling that no matter what, it would be everything but okay…


End file.
